


Dark Hook and the deckhand

by flipperbrain



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dark One Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Deckhand Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 17:51:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13575816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipperbrain/pseuds/flipperbrain
Summary: Dark Hook reclaims his ship and keeps the cowardly deckhand on as his companion.





	Dark Hook and the deckhand

When Dark Hook reclaimed his ship he didn’t need a crew, he had magic. He could sail this vessel alone. But, maybe another human being on board wasn’t a bad idea. He might need someone to talk to, to do his bidding. He inspected the men lined up before him and feeling merciful, he sent them back to shore one by one instead of dumping them in the drink, which on another day he might have done. When he spotted the deckhand with his head down, peering up at him with frightened eyes as he fidgeted with the buttons on his waistcoat, he knew. The remaining men on deck disappeared with a wave of his hand leaving this one. This nervous man would be his companion. For now.

As the weeks passed deckhand Jones attended to his duties, trying to remain as unnoticed as possible and not get underfoot. They barely spoke, but Hook watched him. He wondered at what had happened to make him so anxious and insecure, his habits and gestures were strange and intriguing. His nervous ways sometimes amusing. As he stood at the bow, feeling the wind against his face, he found himself increasingly preoccupied thinking about the other man on board. His eyes and his furtive glances, the way his body moved. He scampered less these days, which was a good thing, but he still lacked confidence.

That evening as Jones went about his bath, Hook secretly watched as he washed himself, listening to his mutterings about his fears and how he mustn’t annoy the Captain by dropping things and being a bother. That he must practice his swordsmanship in case something happened and he was needed. Hook felt sympathy for him and a pang of desire, as he watched the deckhand rub the soapy cloth on his neck and shoulders, the water running in rivulets down his body. He is attractively formed, Hook thought, strong arms, muscled chest. His manhood impressive even at rest.

Hook shifted his weight and the floor creaked under his feet, Jones’ head whipped around, his eyes searching the darkness. Hook disappeared in a cloud of red smoke, whisking himself away from his hiding place and now rests in his quarters, contemplating his sailing companion. Perhaps he would teach him a few things. He waved his hand to extinguish the lantern and sat by the stove, warming himself until morning.

————————

At daybreak Hook waited on deck, sword in hand, for the deckhand to appear. He would spend some hours teaching him how to fight. Hook was an excellent swordsman and he knew it. He didn’t need to fight in the conventional way of course, not anymore, but he still enjoyed it. Exercising his skill, toying with an opponent before striking and wounding. Or killing if necessary. He had killed many men with his sword in defense of self. The minutes ticked by and the deckhand did not appear as he always had. At 6 bells sharp he would climb up from below deck and begin his work. Hook grew annoyed, he sheathed his sword and shouted ‘Jones!’

No answer.

Hook was angry now and stalked below deck to find the lazy man and drag him out by his collar.

The deckhand was still lying in his hammock, shivering with fever. Hook could feel the heat coming from his body as he reached out to touch his forehead, his skin was blazing. Jones opened his eyes and looked up at him then closed them again, his lips murmuring ‘sorry’ and ‘sick’ then grew silent. Fear filled Hook’s eyes, he pressed an ear against the man’s chest and listened intently, still beating. With a gesture Jones was transported to the Captain’s quarters and tucked into his bunk. Hook stoked the fire in the stove and stood there watching his companion shake uncontrollably. He waved his hand over his body and tried to heal him, but it didn’t work. His dark magic couldn’t heal this illness.

Hook shrugged off his coat and filled a bowl with cool water, then conjured some broth. He sat by the bunk mopping the deckhand’s face and brow hour-by-hour, coaxing spoonfuls of broth down his throat. It was hot in the cabin, Hook was sweating through his clothes, but the heat did no good to ease the deckhand’s shaking. He removed his vest and climbed into the bunk and held him, warming him with his body. Stroking his hair to soothe him when he talked incoherently, babbling fevered nonsense. Hook remembered a song from his childhood and sang it quietly until Jones drifted off to sleep. How much time has passed, he doesn’t know for sure. Two days? Three? Does his brow seem a little cooler now? Hook hoped that was true. He pressed his lips to his companion’s forehead and whispered a prayer.

—————————

Jones wakes a few hours later, his fever has broken and he’s drenched with sweat, but his eyes and mind are clearer. He looks at the man lying next to him, holding him, the fearsome Dark One. But he doesn’t look so fearsome now, just tired. He has no memory of how he got there, and why Hook has his arms around him, but he likes it. He lifts his head to look around, he’s weak and his vision swims a little at the change of position.

Hook opens his eyes at the movement and sits up, grinning. Jones turns to looks at him, then his head falls back onto the pillow, ‘What happened Sir?’ He asks. Hook smiles at him relieved, and says ’You were ill, but now you look better. Let’s get you into some dry clothes, shall we?’ And with a snap of his fingers Jones has dry breeches and a clean soft blouse, the bedclothes are changed and hot soup appears on the small table beside him. He eats and already feels on the mend but needs rest. Hook stays there lying next him, reading stories aloud from a volume on the shelf. The deckhand welcomes his company, pleased at his attention. He sleeps peacefully through the night with Hook by his side.

A few days pass and Jones ventures out on deck, smelling the sea air. He’s much stronger now and ready to return to his duties such as they are, but Hook has other ideas. He waits on deck, sword in hand and points it at the deckhand’s chest, ‘draw your sword, Jones’ Hook says commandingly. Jones’ eyes grow as big as saucers, his fingers tremble as he reaches for the hilt of his weapon. Hook sighs and drops the point of his blade ‘I’m not going to hurt you, I’m going to teach you. Now draw!’

—————————

For hours Hook takes the deckhand through his paces, teaching him the appropriate stance, how to advance and retreat, guard and lunge and pivot. He explains strategy and ways to anticipate his enemy’s next move. Hook praises and corrects and commands until Jones has mastered the basics. At the end of the lesson they’re both sweaty and fatigued. ‘Well done!’ says Hook. The deckhand smiles broadly at his approval, his chest proudly puffed out. He tosses his head, willing the strand of hair hanging in his eyes to return to where it belongs, and it does for a moment, then flops down onto his forehead again. Hook smiles at him, he feels fondness and maybe something more for this hard-working skittish soul, and reaches out to brush it aside then cups his face in his hand. Without thinking he leans in for a kiss. Jones stands frozen at first, unaccustomed to receiving this kind of affection, but Hook’s lips are soft and warm, and returning his kiss is, after all, quite pleasurable.

Hook’s arms encircle the deckhand’s waist, pulling him closer, his lips brushing tenderly against his companion’s. His tongue licks across the seal of Jones’ mouth, searching for, but not gaining entry ‘open your mouth, love’ he says, the deckhand’s lips part and Hook’s tongue slips inside. Jones feels warmth growing in the pit of his stomach, and something else less familiar growing further below, as their tongues glide gently against each other. Hook takes it slow and plays the teacher once more, demonstrating the art of the kiss. Lips softly pressing then tongues reaching out to touch and explore. He tilts his head to dive deeper, his mouth slanting across the deckhand’s like a symphony, leaving him breathless. Hook sucks Jones’ lower lip into his mouth and bites playfully, his hand roaming over the deckhand’s back and under his vest, following his curves down to his hip and resting there.

Hook leans back to study the other man’s face, his eyes are closed, thick eyelashes dusting his cheekbones, eyebrows arching sweetly above them like dark brush strokes. His cheeks are flushed with exertion and passion, lips parted, plump and red from his kisses. They stick together at the corners, his mouth forming an O as he leans forward slightly, anticipating contact. When it doesn’t come he opens his eyes, confusion and worry cross his features. ‘Have I done something wrong, Sir?’ He asks nervously, wringing his hands. His eyes downcast now with self-doubt and fear.

Hook lifts the deckhand’s chin with his fingers, his thumb drifting along the line of his jaw and looks into his eyes ‘No love, you haven’t. You have not done anything wrong’ he says quietly, his hand moves to tuck a lock of hair behind Jones’ ear. The deckhand nods, his face soft, his eyes searching. Hook gathers him into his arms, holding him close, breathing in the scent of his hair. Jones turns his head and kisses Hook's neck, his mouth sliding upward as he whispers without guile ‘I love you.’ Hook is bewildered by this statement. How could anyone love him, evil malevolent bastard that he is, or at least can be. But this simple, honest, nervous man, who is more brave than he realizes… does. Hook presses his lips against his companion’s temple, they skim across his cheek to his mouth and kisses him without restraint. He can feel the deckhand’s hardness against him as it begins to rain. Hook glances at the dark clouds above and with a flick of his wrist they appear in his quarters as the first bolt of lightning splits the sky.

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‘Would you care for a drink?’ Hook asks. Jones shakes his head no, he’s allergic to rum. Hook makes a face ‘well I shouldn’t have any either then I suppose’. He takes off his coat and tosses it over a chair, then turns to Jones, working the buttons of his vest and pushing it off his shoulders onto the floor. Jones looks at it anxiously. He starts to reach for it, but Hook stops him and picks it up himself, folding it neatly and placing it on the table. ‘You really don’t like it when things are out of order, do you Jones?’ He says grinning as he pulls the deckhand’s blouse from his pants then up and off over his head. ‘No, Sir’ he replies meekly. ‘Call me Hook. I’d say we’re on friendly terms now, wouldn’t you?’ ‘And perhaps I should ask,’ Hook says gesturing toward his bunk, ‘While my intentions seem rather clear, I would like to share my bed with you, and for something more than sleep. Would that please you?’ The Deckhand nods vigorously ‘yes Sir… I mean Hook, it would.’

Hook smiles brilliantly and returns to the task of undressing his companion ‘Good!’ He says, ‘then we’re all agreed.’ He unbuttons Jones’ breeches and points toward the bed. Jones dutifully complies, crawling up onto the feather mattress. Hook pulls off his boots and pants, arching an eyebrow in appreciation as the other man’s size is revealed to him. Jones sits at the edge of the bunk, watching his Captain get undressed, their eyes connect as Hook unbuttons his waistcoat, his features darkening with desire as he thinks about what’s next. He folds the garment, grinning wryly at Jones, and places it next to his leather duster, then his boots lined up neatly on the floor. His blouse, his breeches and his hook follow until he’s naked, his sex hard and standing out from his body, his long hair tousled and mussed hangs in his eyes.

—————————

The deckhand scrutinizes Hook’s devilish face as he approaches and wonders whether he will have pleasure tonight or be eaten, but he’s rather thrilled at the prospect of finding out. He scoots back to make room as Hook crawls up and on top of him, his weight pressing him into the mattress. Hook’s mouth captures his lips and his tongue pushes inside. Jones embraces his dark lover with his arms and his legs, his feet resting at the small of Hook’s back as their bodies grind and move against each other. Their erections rub together and criss-cross like swords between them. Hook’s lips move about the deckhand’s face, kissing his eyelids, then his cheeks, his nose then chin.

He sits up then lays down again in the other direction, grasping Jones in his hand and nodding toward his lover to encourage he do the same. Jones’ trembling fingers reach out and tentatively touch Hook’s swollen shaft, marveling at it’s thickness, his tongue shyly licking through the wetness that has begun to leak out. Hook groans, thinking this man needs no instruction in this task, he’s a natural, then takes the deckhand in his mouth. They lay on the bunk, head-to-foot, heads bobbing, sucking and licking each other. Jones is euphoric, his feelings of happiness overwhelm him as he pleasures the man he’s grown to love. His taste, his sounds. He takes him deeper into his mouth, as deeply as he can, his lips and tongue massaging and working up and down his length as the sensations in his own groin increase exponentially. His orgasm overtakes him without warning, he yells out ‘Oh, oh OHHH!’ He feels Hook’s mouth stroking and sucking as he comes, throbbing and spurting between his lips. He squeezes his eyes closed gasping and panting and gripping the sheets.

——————————

When Jones is finally finished Hook crawls toward him grinning widely, the look of shock and awe on his face is a treasure that he won’t soon forget. He lays next to him, soothing him with his hands and lips until his breathing returns to normal. But he isn’t finished yet. He rolls his deckhand away from him onto his side and presses his body tightly against his back, his mouth skimming his neck and shoulders. He reaches down to guide himself between the cleft of his cheeks, then begins to move. His stiff length sliding back and forth, across his opening, teasing him, relaxing him. Jones closes his eyes and focuses on this new development, angling his hips back and leaning into it. He reaches for Hook’s hand and holds it against his chest as he moves. Hook’s finger’s find a nipple to fondle and pinch, as his hips thrust again and again.

He whispers against his lover’s neck to relax. ‘Don’t be afraid, if it’s too much, I’ll stop. Aye?’ Jones nods, then feels Hook’s erection pressing against him, pushing inside him. He tenses at the pain and grips Hook’s arm, his eyes wide. Hook stops moving as his hand strokes and calms Jones, he speaks softly in his ear, telling him to relax. And he does. In a few moments Hook starts to move again, and it doesn’t hurt anymore. Jones begins to get hard once more as Hook’s thick length moves in and out, deeper and deeper. He drives against his deckhand, his hips slapping and grinding. As his orgasm builds his magic simmers in his fingertips sending gentle waves of pleasure and light through Jones wherever he touches him. His pace quickens to a fevered pitch until he cries out, straining as he empties, pulsing and pouring himself inside his sweet loving deckhand.

——————————

They hold each other until morning then get dressed and spend the day on deck. And together every day thereafter. Feeling the wind and sun on their faces, and loving each other ’til dawn.


End file.
